Bug
by CrappyFanfictionInc
Summary: Illness is an easy thing to deal with in 2Fort; a quick hit of Medigun and you're right as rain. It always works... until one day, it doesn't... (I'm sorry, I have no idea how to write a decent summary.)


"Sore throat's back."

Medic looked up from the cell samples growing under the lens of his microscope. He held a pen loosely in one hand hovering above a notebook while the other gripped a small knob on the side of the device. Papers, petri dishes, and bits and pieces of prototypes lay strewn about the area. "Vhat?"

"Oi said m'sore throat started up again, Doc." The bushman stood at the open door of the medical bay. He rubbed the back of his neck. "And m'head hurts. Mebbe ya didn't hit me with a hard enough dose of Medigun?"

Medic grumbled; he had been in a rush to get Sniper out of his office earler that day, seeing as he'd wanted to get a jump start on his research that morning.

Sniper sauntered over to Medic's work area as the doctor went to get his Medigun, hands in his pockets. "So, eh... what's all this, then?"

Medic checked over his shoulder to make sure Sniper wasn't touching anything. "I am researching limb regeneration."

Sniper perked up. "Loike makin' the whole arm grow back instead of jes' healin' over th' stump?" Sniper liked that idea. No more wandering around base with missing limbs after battle if you were unlucky enough not to Respawn before Respawn was shut off for the week.

Medic nodded, wheeling aside a gurney. "Exactly." He scanned where the cart had been and grumbled. "Herr Sniper, do you remember vhere I set my Medigun vhen you vere in here last?"

"Not a clue, Doc."

"Scheisse."

Sniper looked around the cluttered room. "I could help you look."

Medic shook his head. "I appreciate ze offer, but you might misplace something."

Sniper quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the cluttered room.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, zis is an organized mess! I know exactly where everyzing is." Medic pushed aside a few bottles and a zipped plastic sack that made a squelching noise. "Most of ze time, anyvays..."

The bushman chuckled and looked back down to the microscope. "Can I take a peek?" Sure, he wouldn't really know what he was looking at, but Medic liked when he was asked about his work and it might offset his grumpy mood.

As predicted, the doctor perked up a bit. "Ja, go ahead!"

Sniper sat in the old, duct-taped-at-the-edges leather seat where Medic had been sitting minutes ago and lowered his eye to the lens.

"Vhat do you see?"

"Erm... just grey."

"Move ze dish around some."

Sniper complied and grabbed the edge of the dish, giving it little pushes until something came into view. "Got it!" He stared for a few seconds. "These are cells, roight?"

"Ja."

"Well'n, I see a bunch'a red 'n white cells with some pink ones in the middle." He lifted his head. "Whassit, exactly?"

Medic smiled proudly, pushing aside a set of medical curtains which revealed a pile of machinery, some of which looked broken or unfinished and others which whirred and glowed and gave off little cross symbols. "Ze red cells are muscle cells and ze vhite ones are bone cells. Ze pink cells are muscle cells morphing into bone cells! If I can get ze cells to follow a preset... 'map', for lack of a better vord, I might be able to regenerate limbs from bloody stumps!" He rummaged through the stack. "Ha!" He hoisted up a smallish metal cylinder with whirring bits on one side and the other side open and glowing blue. "Ich fand es!"

"That.. don't look loike the Medigun, doc."

"It is not," Medic replied, "but it is a hand-held prototype I am vorking on. It is not battlefield-ready yet, but it vorks." He walked over to the Sniper and handed it to him after he'd pushed himself up out of the chair. "Point ze glowing end towards ze center of your chest und hold down ze big button viz ze cross on it until ze pain in your throat stops. You may keep it for the day. Do not lose it."

"Got it, mate." Sniper gave a small smile and a tip of his hat to Medic as he strode back to the door. "Thanks."

The Medic returned with a nod, but a worried shadow crossed his face. "Sniper?"

The aussie man stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"If ze sore throat keeps coming back, und especially if any more symptoms develop, return here immediately, understand?"

"Got it." Sniper nodded again and shut the door behind him.

Medic bit his lip and crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully at the door through which the bushman had just exited.

"Zis could be bad."

- -

AN: First thing I'll say, feedback is much appreciated! If it was too short or not detailed enough, whatever you think, I'm always open to con. crit. and I've heard TF2chan is great for that.

Secondly, I'm sorry, but don't expect the next chapter for a little while; I've got a metric fuckton of homework since I missed a week and a half of school 'cuz of the friggin' flu (which also happens to be the inspiration for this story. Go figure.)


End file.
